Remind Me, Before I Push You
by Nyrihaz
Summary: Discoveries are sometimes hard to accept; sometimes we like to push those we love away; and sometimes we just have to be reminded that they will follow us to the end. Harry-Hermione


**Late Night Thinking**

**Edited version!**

**Disclaimer: I own only the plot, although is probably been done. Really, I would have to do magic to own everything. **

- - -

Sitting in front of the fire in what was _once_ Sirius room, thinking and contemplating and brooding, cursing his fate and everything else. Harry Potter was now a young man, with a burdened look in his emerald eyes.

He and the others were there, but he was the only one still aware, still awake. After a long reunion full of rubbish, petitions, explanations and the like, the Order was finally off to rest. Seeing Dumbledore and not exploding was a milestone, considering his outburst at the end of his fifth year.

Late it was. But he, he could not sleep.

He was thinking, about everything that has happened. Last year, the Department of Mysteries, Sirius… Voldemort and Hermione…

Sirius had been his last real, in a way, family. Losing him had barely been the last straw. Yet, no one believes that heroes can give up. They are to go on until the end, if just to die another day. His Godfather had died, falling thru a simple veil, and all because of his silly, childish mistakes.

If only he had listened to her…

Yes to her. Hermione Granger, the _wisest-witch-of-her-age_, his best friend. He knew, he was thinking too much of her lately. After seeing her so close to dead, only one step away, fragile and hurt and unconscious in the floor, he understood how important she was to him. He had been left completely stunned when he thought he had lost her, forevermore. His blood ran cold and he forgot how to breathe. It was Neville who found her pulse and then he was alive again. He had a mission to finish—even if I had been a disaster already—if only for her sake.

And when he put the pieces together, the answer was clear before his eyes. If she was gone, he was too. He needed her, like no one else.

Maybe, it was love.

She had been there thru it all, the good and specially the bad. She had saved him, as much as he had save her, and had helped him, not only in school, but on his _adventures_ , going so far as to break her precious rules for his sake.

And she was beautiful, not only inside. She wasn't drop-dead-gorgeous, she was more the type of secretive beauty that you have to squint hard to find; a diamond in a corner, occult and ignored.

"Bloody hell!" he coursed, loudly and annoyed.

'_I can't think of her like that, she is only my friend!' _but even he knew what a pathetic excuse that was.

He looked towards the fire, the flames dancing, exasperated and tried to push everything, especially _her, _away. The plan when downhill and into oblivion when he heard soft, graceful steps coming towards him, interrupting his reverie.

"Lumos," whispered a familiar, gentle voice; kind like a placid lullaby. In a few seconds more the burst of light left in view Hermione's face.

"What are you doing up at this hour Harry?" she asked, concern in her chocolate eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked first Harry."

"Indeed you did," he chuckled albeit a bit strained, "I was just thinking, the usual. And you?"

"I could not sleep. Decided to get a snack when I saw you here," she explained. "What are you thinking about?"

"A millions things…"

She sat down next to him, and put a tentative hand to his face. "Harry, speak to me please. Tell me what's bugging you… I want to understand."

He looked up and found her eyes, and he got lost on them.

He knew quite well that he couldn't lie to her. He was thinking of many things, true, but they all concerned her and his… changing feeling for her. Could he tell her that? He fetched for an excuse and tried his best at appearing smooth.

"Last year," and a sad expression took over her features.

"Harry," she kindly commanded, "look at me."

Silently, he did as she asked.

"Last year wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was 'Mione. It was all my bloody damn fault!" he stood up abruptly and strode to the fire.

"It would be best if I didn't have friends, then no one will die…" it was a whisper, but it reached her loud and clear.

"Stop it!" she shouted, standing up as well.

"Bloody hell Harry! It wasn't your fault; get that into your head. And you can push us as far as you want but we are your friends and we will still be coming after you. I would go to hell for you, I would die for you… but I want to try and live for you, so let me…"

He looked at her, speechless. There were tears in her eyes, about to fall but she seemed stubborn enough to hold them back.

"You wouldn't be in danger if you weren't my friend."

He turned his back to her, again.

"I am a muggle born Harry. I will be in Voldemort black list even if I wasn't your friend," she was angry and her voice wasn't hiding the hostility.

Harry whirled around and grabbed her by her arms, somehow roughly yet still gentle and made her look straight into his eyes. She stared right back, defiantly and he knew then—once again—why she was in Gryffindor.

"Tom could kill you. You could be the next one," he was frantic, he had to make her see reason, "I don't want to lose you, I can't bear to do so…"

"I am not going anywhere. I'm your friend, and if I have to face Voldemort himself to be so… then so be it."

He let go of her, his arms falling limply at his side.

"I don't want to lose anyone else… I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose you! I'm not the only one who can die, you can too. Do you have any idea, Harry James Potter, of what your dead would do to me? More if I can't be there to help you while we have the chance."

He didn't say anything, just listened to her; too her soft spoken words and confession.

"I don't fear dead. I just want to be at your side… I _need_ to be at your side."

She took a step forward, resting her forehead against him, so close she could fell his breath caress her skin. She had said too much and then some and she knew it. But she didn't regret it.

He wanted to kiss her. He couldn't think of anything else. She was intoxicating, everywhere. She smelled of books and rain, and he wanted to lose himself in her and only her. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was she, Hermione Granger, who close the almost inexistent distance and kissed him and he was the surprised one who soon kissed back, eager and without wasting a second. The kiss deepened, as both screamed without words secrets and feelings kept in the dark for far too long. When they broke apart for need of air neither said anything.

Harry knew then that he couldn't push her away—she was the heart on his chest—he just needed to be reminded. And she was going to remind him that even if he pushed her way she was coming after.

Always

They stayed like that, in each other arms in complete silence. Content and, for once, the boy-who-lived was sincerely smiling.

In the sky, a pair plus one watched, just as happy. Because that night Harry and Hermione had found the only thing that could help them defeat Voldemort.

They had found love.

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**Author' Note:**

**Decided to finally edit this… came out… okay, I think. Read and Review!**


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